A Day in Gotham - Batgirl Begins 01byduke1951©
This story (Episode 2) is a 'prequel' to the 'A Day In Gotham' series that I wrote a year or so ago. In particular, it precedes 'Batgirl's Dilemma' which is the first story that I wrote and technically is Episode 3 in the series. I always had it in mind to come back to Batgirl at some stage (she's such a fun character!) and fill in some gaps, and this story attempts to set the stage for some of the later action. As it developed, it grew (as usual!), so I've split it into three parts. This will therefore be Episode 2 Part 1. Hope that's not as complicated as it sounds!
Some kind people have contacted me over the last year requesting a follow-up to my last piece, Batgirl Vexed (Episode 8), particularly as the ending was not to everyone's taste, so I've sketched out a storyline which I'll hopefully have ready shortly after I've finished these three episodes.
As ever, I write these for people's entertainment and to give me some practice in the black art of storytelling. Feedback of any shape, size or intensity is always welcome!
Please enjoy........ Duke1951)
1 -- Batgirl Goes Solo
2 -- Threats in the Barn
3 -- Batgirl Has a Problem
4 -- A Fate Worse Than ........?
5 - Plan A -- High Expectations
6 - So What Was Plan B Again?
7 - The Aftermath
8 - After the Aftermath
9 - Heather's Party Surprise
10 - Catgirl Attempts 'Gentle Persuasion'
1 -- Batgirl Goes Solo
The adrenaline had stopped pumping. The excitement had dissipated. It had become, unbelievably, a bit boring!
She stopped in front of a large department store and examined her reflection in the giant plate glass window. Even in the dim street lights, the image reflected back brought a satisfied smile to her face. She turned slightly to get a profile, pleased at the way her tight purple costume clung to her shapely figure. Her latex clad bosom thrust forward suggestively, her narrow waist was gripped by the bright yellow utility belt and her nicely rounded rear end curved smoothly down into a pair of lithe, young legs that disappeared into her long black boots. She lifted her black gloved hands to smooth the bush of red hair cascading down her back from the under the purple cowl. It was a blatant, narcissist pose, but she didn't care. She looked fabulous, she knew, and she felt great about it!
It was late, about eleven, and the streets of Gotham City were starting to clear. It didn't look like she'd be getting much action now, and on top of that, and to her considerable annoyance it was just starting to drizzle with a light rain. She drew in a deep breath as she thought back to her earlier excitement as she'd started her first solo patrol. It was the first time without either Batman or Robin doing their hand-holding routine.
It really was frustrating! She'd spent months pestering Batman to let her loose. She'd invested years of her young life training hard under Batman's guiding hand, building up her strength, learning fighting techniques that should have won her Olympic medals. Now here she was, almost twenty two, a finely tuned super-athlete ready to take on the worst that Gotham could throw at her and what had she achieved? A couple of 'drunk and disorderlys', a failed mugging and a thwarted bag snatch!
At least the bag-snatcher had made a run for it and she'd been able to demonstrate her speed and power in taking the young hooligan down. The police had queried the bruising when she'd handed him over but hey, a girl had to get some fun out of fighting crime didn't she?
Then there'd been the reporter. How he'd found her she didn't know. He'd wanted to follow her, write up a scoop. Ah, as if! She'd soon sent him off with a flea in his ear as well.
It almost brought a tear to her eye. Such high expectations, such a miserable tally! Batman wouldn't laugh of course. He was better than that, but she could almost hear the slightly condescending words of re-assurance that she'd get when she reported in. And 'condescension' was the last thing she wanted from Batman. She'd so hoped to be able to impress him, make him see her as a woman to contend with, not a girl anymore. Make him want to wrap his arms round her, to feel her urgent response, to pull her to him and take her ........
'Oh God, not again!' she thought angrily to herself as she wiped the vision from her mind, 'Get a grip girl. This is getting almost obsessive!' She hadn't been able to suppress the little shiver that ran through her though, or the tingle that had appeared between her legs at the thought of those strong hands caressing her.
Suddenly her senses sharpened! What was it she'd heard?
She stepped back into the shadows as she turned towards a group of men who'd just tumbled out of one of the nearby bars. They were laughing and joshing each other in the friendly way men do after a few drinks. She studied them warily. There were four of them and they were big, powerful looking men, casually dressed but, for all the laughter, there was something sinister about them. It looked like this mob really could be worthy opponents because the word that had caught her attention and was bouncing around her brain didn't normally sit well in conversations about football or the barmaid's physical attributes.
'Kidnap' meant something a bit more serious surely!
She followed them discretely around a couple of corners, excitement mounting, before watching them board a large black SUV. There was just time to dash forward, keeping low, and attaching a Bat-Tracer to the rear bumper before it pulled out into traffic.
Heart pumping hard, she twisted round and sprinted away towards the alley where she'd parked her Bat-Bike a couple of blocks away. This was more like it, a bit of action at last!
She was hardly out of breath when she reached the alleyway and was congratulating herself on her superb physical condition when she suddenly pulled up abruptly. A small red light on the steering column console was blinking urgently. The alarm on the bike had been triggered!
Batman had spent many months with Batgirl designing and building the bike to her specifications and had insisted on installing a small electrical shocker to deter would-be thieves. Batgirl being Batgirl had tested it and decided that something stronger was required so she'd secretly upgraded the system to give a somewhat stronger jolt. A seriously strong shock in fact.
She peered further into the darkness of the alley where a dark figure lay squirming in the dirt, moaning softly.
"Well, that'll teach you a lesson won't it! No time to sort you out though," she murmured as she disabled the alarm and jumped on her machine, hitting the starter in one smooth motion and feeling the powerful v-twin motor come to life between her legs. She switched on the console tracker and paused for a moment as it searched for the Bat-Tracer's signal, breathing a sigh of satisfaction as she saw it pulsing away on the street display. They hadn't got far and were heading East on the main route out of the centre.
Within seconds she was off, weaving expertly through the traffic until she'd caught them, slotting in a couple of cars back and trying to be patient. But a nagging doubt had been building in her mind about this. Were they really up to no good? Had she misinterpreted the comment? She was seriously wondering whether to call it off as they reached the outskirts and she had to drop even farther back to avoid being spotted, but after a couple of miles into the country, she saw the SUV indicate left and disappear up a track between trees. She paused at the turn-off and seeing the sign for a farm, idled the machine up the track until she reached a clearing with a farmhouse and outbuildings. The farmhouse looked dark and deserted, but nearby was a big timbered barn and the SUV was parked outside.
'Oh well, better see what they're up to,' she thought, hoping fervently that it wasn't just a late night poker school.
2 -- Threats in the Barn
After hiding the Bat-Bike behind some shrubbery, Batgirl carefully walked around the barn. There was light leaking out from gaps in the big front doors, but clearly she couldn't just barge in. However, down the side opposite from the house, she spotted a window near the roof. It looked slightly ajar, so she quickly pulled out a thin throwing rope from her belt and launched it at the roof above. The end was weighted and sharp and she was pleased to fell it snag something solid. Satisfied after testing the tension she began hauling herself up until she reached the window, eased it open and slipped silently inside.
She crouched in the semi-darkness, senses on full alert. She appeared to be on some sort of platform stretching the width of the barn and covered with bales of hay and other farming paraphernalia, it was incredibly dusty and for a moment she thought she might sneeze and ruin the plan completely. By a supreme effort of willpower though she fought back the urge and looked around. Light was filtering through from the end of the barn near the door, and she could hear the men talking, but they were out of sight. She crept lightly forward towards the edge of the platform, using some bales of hay for cover.
Looking down she could see the four big men below her, lounging about in a pool of light illuminated by a single bright light hanging down from the ceiling on a long wire in front of her. Alongside it chains dangled down from a pulley attached to the main ceiling beam. The men were chatting relatively quietly and she couldn't make out the words consistently but she soon got the impression that they were waiting for something.
Now what? She'd come this far on a hunch and, despite their menacing manner, they'd broken no laws. How long should she just sit here and wait? What if something dramatic happened back in town and she missed it? Batman would probably have something scathing to say about 'women's intuition', but she could deal with that. The indecision was annoying, but in the end she decided to grit her teeth and wait it out.
Fortunately she didn't have to wait long.
After about ten minutes, she heard another vehicle pulling into the clearing and lurching to a stop on the gravel outside the barn. It sounded big. A few minutes later the small access door set into the big barn door, creaked open and, to Batgirl's horror, another four big men trooped into the barn, shaking hands and greeting each other with manly back-slaps. The language was hardly kindergarten friendly, but at least was loud enough for her to pick up some key information.
"Boss has got the fuckers," said one of the newcomers loudly, "Marco'll be here in a few minutes."
Batgirl was now in a quandary. At least it looked like something would happen after all, but now there were eight large bruisers below her, with the possibility of more to come. The odds may have been ok before, but now they looked decidedly iffy, and Batman had a standing rule that anyone facing that sort of number had to call for back-up. She was in two minds again. Calling for help was absolutely the last thing she wanted to do on her first solo patrol, and still nothing untoward had happened. She decided to wait and watch.
Again, she didn't have long to wait.
The sound of another vehicle pulling up outside had all the men onto their feet. The level of tension in the barn rose a few notches, and Batgirl's muscles tensed automatically.
There was a scuffling sound outside before the small door crashed open again and two more heavies burst in, bundling in two hooded figures who were struggling and squirming in their grasp. Following them was a tall, thin man with short dark hair and a pencil thin moustache. Judging by the way the rest drew back from him, Batgirl presumed this was the 'Boss', Marco.
Batgirl's immediate attention however was focussed on the two hooded figures. A man dressed in a black lounge suit was being hustled towards the single wooden chair under the light, the other, clearly a woman judging by the long black evening dress and matching stiletto shoes was being held in a big bear hood by one of the heavies to one side. Both were complaining loudly but indistinctly from under their rough hessian hoods.
The man was quickly forced onto the chair and big hands made light work of fastening his legs, and pulling his hands behind him before lashing them to the chair as well. He continued to struggle hard, but totally ineffectively. The woman however was making a nuisance of herself, trying hard to kick back at the shins of the big man who seemed to almost engulf her with his arms, her struggles highlighting the deep side-slit in her dress and exposing a long white leg up to mid-thigh. Marco was clearly annoyed at the distraction.
"Tie her to the hook you morons!" he shouted indicating the large metal hook dangling at the end of the pulley chains above them.
In the burst of activity that followed, the woman was overwhelmed, her hands tied together and looped onto the hook, one of the men pulling on the chain to drag it upwards until she was dangling down with her shoes just touching the floor. It took her a few minutes to gain her balance and the men laughed mockingly as her feet scrabbled for purchase.
"About time too!" snapped the tall, thin man, reaching up and dragging off the hood from the woman's head, revealing a face contorted with fury, her auburn hair dishevelled, but still with plenty of fight in her.
"You miserable bastards! Let us go you creeps, or I'll ........ouch!"
"Oh shut up you slag!" he snapped as he reached down and grasped one of her breasts, twisting hard.
They were glaring at each other, and Batgirl could see her better now. She was as tall as he was, and the strapless black evening dress was tight enough to suggest a good figure with well-rounded hips. The cut at the front was deep enough to display a promising hint of cleavage and Batgirl thought that she looked youngish, probably early thirties. But as her deep brown eyes darted round, taking in the scene, Batgirl could see the fear build, sapping her energy.
Marco quickly lost interest in her and strode back to the man in the chair, dragging off his hood as well. This revealed a middle aged man, older than the woman, but just as angry.
"What the hell ......!" he blustered as he looked around, sighing miserably as he saw the woman dangling from the chains in front of him, "Oh noooooo, Sarah! Are you all right dear?"
"It's ok Derek," she responded, Batgirl now assuming that she was his wife. "We'll get out of this somehow!" she finished determinedly.
"You won't if mister deputy, assistant bank manager here or whatever you call yourself doesn't co-operate!!" added the thin man as he stood menacingly over his captive.
"Look, take our money, jewelry, my credit cards, I can get more cash ...aaaaaargh!"
Derek didn't get to finish as the Marco's hand slapped hard across his face, knocking it sideways. "Derek!" cried his wife as she lost balance and pirouetted on the chains again.
"Wrong answer! Christ if we wanted your bloody valuables why would we bother with this place!!" he stormed, "You know what we want!"
"I don't....." the man responded miserably as a sliver of blood dribbled from the corner of his mouth.
The second slap sounded like a gunshot as the poor man's head rocketed to the other side, accompanied by a moan from his wife. Batgirl was frustrated in her helplessness as she suddenly realised that she had no alternative. This was getting out of hand. She'd have to call Batman for back-up after all. She ducked back behind the hay, dragged out her communicator and hit the red 'emergency' button. It would alert Batman and show exactly where they were. It wasn't what she'd wanted, but it made good sense. Much as she hated to admit it, she couldn't take on ten powerful men on her own! She peeped round the bale of hay again.
"OK, I'll make it easy," Marco was continuing, "just give us the combination to the vault you sap!"
The man was shaking his head. "I can't......." he offered miserably, cringing back as the hand lifted again. This time the blow didn't land. Marco whirled round, "Ok, let's see if this jogs your memory," and reached for the woman, gripping the front of her dress and dragging it forward and down.
There was a collective gasp from the surrounding men as the woman's breasts popped into view. Batgirl was shocked at the speed of it, as was the woman below, her raised arms tightening the two milky white orbs, the deep brown areolas surmounted by stubby, pink-brown nipples that stood out proudly in front of her.
"Oh!" she gasped in shock as she saw all eyes in the room lock onto her bare bosom.
"Mmmm not bad lady, not bad at all," laughed Marco as he circled round her, "you really shouldn't keep those all to yourself now should you!!" and to shouts of encouragement from his audience he wrapped his arms around her and cupped the soft flesh in his hands.
"You lousy worm!" the woman exclaimed as his fingers tightened their grip, "you'll get ...... aaaaaah!"
He laughed again as he trapped her nipples between his finger and thumb, squeezing and twisting at the same time.
Batgirl had tensed, the sight of that man playing with the innocent woman was infuriating her, but she still couldn't move, the odds were too great. Her husband hurled a series of oaths at her tormentor and thrashed gamely at his bonds, but he too was helpless.
"So mister bank supremo, what do you think?" said Marco as he pulled the wife back into a tight embrace, "ready to co-operate now?!"
The husband was looking straight into his wife's eyes. She was shaking her head, telling him that she could handle this, and Batgirl was so impressed that, even now, she tried to kick back at her captor. But he simply grasped her harder and repeated the treatment on her nipples.
It was enough to sap her husband's will.
"Ok, ok...... leave her ...........please! I'll give you the code."
"That's more like it," responded Marco as he called to one of his men, "Beppy, get some paper and write it down."
In a defeated whisper, the husband listed a string of numbers, Beppy faithfully transcribing as instructed, then he sagged back into the chair.
The 'boss' was looking quizzically at him.
"How many numbers you got there Beppy?"
"That's not enough you cheating bastard!" he shouted at his captive, "I know that there should be twelve!"
"I know, I know ..... but I only have the first six. I can't help it ..... the other six are kept by my colleague, Harold, the other deputy manager."
"I don't fucking believe you!!" raged the Marco, grasping the man's wife even tighter in his arms, "You want we should see some more of your slag?!"
"I can't help it! I don't know the rest!.... I just don't!!" he screamed back desperately.
It was too late.
Marco was running one of his hands down the woman's side, the other arm wrapped across her front, pushing up her breasts and keeping her pressed into him. He reached down, grasped the material and began to draw it slowly upwards, gradually exposing the woman's slim calves, then her knees before her delectable white thighs slid into view.
The woman was still struggling silently in his arms but he was too strong. Her husband was begging them to stop, but one look at Marco's face told Batgirl that this wasn't going to end well. He was clearly enjoying himself and the tension in the room rose inexorably as the other men were drawing closer, shouting encouragement as more and more thigh was revealed. Batgirl looked around impotently. 'Where the hell is Batman!?' she thought desperately, but there was no sign of help yet.
An excited buzz from the crowd drew her eyes back down again she was horrified to see that the dress was up around the woman's waist. The hem had risen high enough to expose a pair of flimsy looking black panties that made the woman look almost more vulnerable than if she'd been naked. There was a collective sigh from around her as the men drank in the sight of the soft material caressing her prominent pubic mound.